


Power Dynamics

by Army C (arh581958)



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Army!Ian, Bottom!Mickey, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Gratuitous Smut, Light Bondage, M/M, Mickey's in control, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Riding, Smut, Top!Ian, Topping from the Bottom, Tumblr, power bottom Mickey, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 22:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7988593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Army%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian has not had the best day at work. Luckily, Mickey, his fiance and love of his life, gets home just in time to give him some much needed help in relaxing. Well, as much relaxing as one can get while being bossed around in the bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Dynamics

**Author's Note:**

> I have been sickly for the past week. I've been coughing non-stop. I have massive headache. My throat hurts like hell. And now, I think that I'm getting colds as well. I wrote this as a little cheer me up for myself even if I'm supposed to be sleeping. Argh. I hate being sick! 
> 
> First ever tumblr request for this lovely couple. Thank you anon for trusting me with your prompt~ I hope you like it~ 
> 
>  
> 
> **Not Beta Read. Open for Volunteers.**

Power.

Mickey used to think that the guy who plows ass is usually the one with power and not the other way around. Not right now, though. Things change. He thinks that sometimes it can be different—reversed. His legs strain with the effort to keep himself up with his ass rhythmically squeezing the tip of Gallagher’s cock. Right now, he holds power.

He _loves_ it.

He’s giddy with it.

He loves watching Ian Gallagher squirming between his parted legs—completely powerless to the carnal whims of the flesh. _He_ ’s the one doing that to Ian, not anybody else.

Underneath him, Ian groans. “Mickey.” God, Ian makes his own _name_ wound filthy. “Mick, come on, please.”

“Quit your complanin’, Gallagher.”

Mickey moves his hips again, tantalizingly slow. He feels the burn on his thighs as he moves his hips in small circles. Damp patches form where his skin meets Ian’s uniform pants. He’s got his fiancé pinned down fully clothed while all of his skin is on display.

“Let me touch you.”

Ian’s wrists tug at his fatigue belt. They’re secured above his head on the headboard. On his camouflage jacket, he looks hot like this—sweaty and flushed. His white shirt’s rucked up to his armpits. At least, Mickey pulled off his shoes before pushing him onto the bed. Muddy sheets are a bitch to clean.

“No.” Mickey smirks, making a show of moving his body. He knows it’s not as near perfect as Ian’s sculpted abs. He’s always had that tiny bit of pudge around his middle but he goes for it anyway, enjoying the way Ian’s eyes trail down his body and to his bouncing red cock.

“Mickey, _please_.” It comes out hoarse. Ian wiggles under him.

Mickey traps his bratty fiancé with his legs. It’s rare for them to switch dynamics in bed. Tonight, Ian came in with a rare look of frustration on his face. Being an army man isn’t how he pictured it to be. Drills day in and day out. There’s also ROTC with high school brats. Mickey hates that look. He’ll do anything to take it away.

“Come on, Firecrotch.” Sweaty hand moves from the headboard to Ian’s shoulders. “Can’t ye follow a few rules, ay? I said shut up and lemme do all the work. Stop ov’r thinkin!”

“But Mickey,” Ian points. His bottom lip juts out and he’s got those big puppy dog green eyes trained on his grumpy little fiance. “I wanna touch you.”

Mickey makes a face like he’s thinking about it. “Don’ good cadets say something when they want somethin’, ayy, Gallagher? You teach’em that in that fancy army school of yours?”

“ _Please,_ Mick, _let me touch you_.” Ian begs.

Oh yes, this power.

Only Mickey had the power to reduce the formidable Captain Gallagher in a sloppy mess.

Mickey leans in, licks a long wet stripe up Ian’s neck before capturing his fiancé’s lips in a dirty kiss. It’s all tongue and saliva. No technique. They like it that way. It’s filthy. It’s passionate. It’s them—two Southies who got out of that hellhole, and survived. It’s a reminder that it’ll always be them.

He sinks down without warning, making Ian jerk up with a shout.

“Fuck, Mickey!”

Mickey grunts in response. Even after so long, he can feel _every inch of Ian_ inside him—big, full, and gloriously long. He cups the slight bulge on his lower stomach and Ian break into another moan.

“Louder,” he commands, pressing on it more. He knows that Ian can feel the press of his fingers. He moves his face next to Ian’s ear and growls, low and feral. “I said _louder_ , Gallagher!”

Inside him, Ian twitches. “Mickey, fuck, Mickey, god, so good, fuck, I can’t—Mick, Mick, I love you, s’good!”

Only then does Mickey start to move.

He starts it off slow, grinding his hips in a circular motion. The scrape of Ian’s army fatigues rubbing against the bare skin of his ass contrasted by the coolness of the metal zipper. His fingers play with the lapels then the shoulder pads. The patch of Ian’s rank is newly sewn onto the coarse fabric.

“At ease, soldier,” he whispers in the most sensuous tone he can muster. It’s easy given that feels it straight from his core. He wants nothing more than to rid Ian of today’s troubles. He dips his fingers into the curve of Ian’s collar.

“Ian, relax for me.” He says, biting his lips.

Ever so gradually, Ian does. It starts with his legs resting flat on the bed, then his arms go slack in their bindings, his shoulders follow, then his taunt stomach decompresses, until he’s putty in Mickey’s hands.

“That’s it,” Mickey coos approval, “My perfect little soldier boy. Good boys get to come. Dyou want that, Firecrotch? I’ll let’ye cum inside me, ayy?”

Ian’s whole body shudders, an action that Mickey feels through the cock resting inside him. The sensation’s something he’ll never get tired of. He slides up and down Ian’s cock for a while longer, enjoying the filthy _shlick, shlick, shlick_ sound that their bodies make.

Sweat’s beading down his whole frame. He came smell it on Ian too. It’s man-sweat and arousal and Ian—all wrapped up into one. He can’t get enough of it. He can’t get enough of his soon-to-be husband.

“Jesus, _Gallagher_ ,” he groans out, burying his nose onto Ian’s pit and inhaling deeply. Ian’s scent is more pronounced, thicker. It shoots straight down to his cock. He’s harder than he was before, precum leaking on his tip as he bounces up and down. “Feel s’good inside. I’m gonna cum. Ya close?”

Ian lets out a breathy “yeah”.

Mickey redoubles his efforts. He bites his lips as he concentrates on nailing his prostrate at every go. The angle’s off. So, he shifts backwards, hands on Ian’s knees, working his whole body. Like this, he can’t touch his cock, but Ian’s piercing gave feels like phantom hands roaming his body like it’s a feast for the gods.

He’s going twice as fast but everything feels slower by two fold.

“God, Mick, are you going to cum without a hand on your cock? Just from me inside you?” Ian’s voice urges him on.

“Yeah, yeah.” Mickey feels it—feels his ball sacks tighten slower to his shaft. He wants it. He wants it so bad. But more that personal relief, he wants something _more_.

“Together,” he demands, looking Ian straight in the eye. “Let’s come together, baby.” There’s barely any green left. It’s overcome by black.

Ian answers him with a determined look on his own. _Make me_ , it says.

Mickey makes a show of _taking his pleasure_ for, and from, Ian. He arches his back, throws back his neck, leans back until every inch of him is for Ian’s viewing pleasure. His knees strain. His legs will give him hell in the morning but at this very moment he doesn’t care.

It’s pure power to be able to hold such a powerful man at his will.

Just that thought pushes him to the edge.

“Ian,” he gasps out in warning. Underneath him, Ian’s whole body stiffens in anticipation. “Now!”

They come together. Thick white ropes of cum shoot out of his cock, painting Ian’s chest and to his freckled cheeks. Inside him, there’s a mad rush of heat that gushes like a river. A shiver runs down his whole body. Every tiny bit of hair raises on the goosebumps across his skin. He spurts a little bit more.

When they come down from their high, Mickey slips off the belt from Ian’s writs, checking both sides for any undue redness or lack of circulation before climbing off. Ian holds him in position, face mashed into his chest. His drying cum makes squishes between their naked skins.

He should be annoyed because it’s disgusting. Instead, he finds himself carding fingers through Ian’s sweaty hair while his fiancé’s soft cock stays inside him. Cum is slipping past his hole to his perineum. Surely, it’ll be a mess on Ian’s pubes in a few minutes. He’ll take those any day. It’s worth it.

“Thank you.” Ian whispers quietly.

“Ayy, don’t go faggy on me again.” Mickey says even if he doesn’t mean it. His arms wrapped around Ian’s head do all the talking for him. “You’re cleaning this shit up. I can’t feel my legs.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Ian grins, looking at up at him.

Yes, it’s the same dorky redhead that Mickey fell for all those years ago—the very same face that he always knew didn’t belong in the Southside, that he knew deserved better.

They got out.

They’re here, and it’s all because of the power of love.

**Author's Note:**

> In other news, this is the one of the very few story that I'm posting outside of the 'Comfort Series' but please do still drop me a message below~ I'd really like to know what ya'll think~ 
> 
> If you have a prompt or an idea, you can [INSPIRE ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/submit) on tumblr. Or [TALK TO ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/ask)~
> 
> As always, **kudos/comments/bookmarks** are all appreciated by this author. I take comments as extra-kudos and I _do_ read the bookmark tags (some are really fun).


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